


Loneliness is Something You Come to Expect

by Julesin



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Canon Compliant, Hallucinations, M/M, Other, its just a thing, just a little thing i wrote in an hour on my way home from work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 20:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11630997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julesin/pseuds/Julesin
Summary: It's time to move on. That's what grief is all about, right?





	Loneliness is Something You Come to Expect

**Author's Note:**

> i just got into the slenderverse fandom, im so late  
> have this sad little thing

_"I was doing fine, I was getting better!"_

Those words. Echoing in his mind as he waited in the cold, breath coming out as smoke that curled from his lips without the aid of a cigarette. Once, he'd screamed those words, in a fit of rage, at one of the only real friends he'd ever had before now. Now it seemed silly, trivial, to think that he'd been okay back then.

His mind reeled a little as he watched the cars pass. People, with places to be, things to do, other people to be with. A sardonic smirk lifted the edges of his mouth at the thought, but it fell soon after when he stopped having a reason to smile. His fingers itched for a cigarette, but he had none with him, had been trying to quit for several months. It was a process, but he was making some headway.

His eyes twitched to his left, looking for someone who wasn't there, wasn't sitting next to him. His heart thudded painfully, reminding him not for the first time that he was alone, finally truly alone. Wisps of the past never really left, but he was alone.

\---

That morning had been painful.

The morning where he'd woken up, mumbled something about needing coffee, and not received a response. The silence was so hollow, so heavy, in his small, empty apartment. Panic had shot through him--one of them was always there to wake him up. Where had they gone? What had happened? Had it returned? That thing, so set on making his life miserable that it would take even the smallest of hopes from him?

No, there was no pounding headache. No seizing feeling in his limbs. Whatever had happened in the end, that creature seemed to be gone for good. From his life, at least. But they couldn't just be gone. He made sure of that, he decided when they left, his mind-

The bottle of pills sitting on his bathroom counter had struck something within him. Something, words he remembered hazily being whispered. He'd been half asleep, worn out from work, and a soft voice had murmured them in his ear, big blue eyes soft as they watched him fall into unconsciousness.

_"You're so strong. Don't forget that. Even when you're alone."_

His mind rattled them around, those words spoken in such a loving tone. They'd passed into his subconscious, not quite registering with the rest of his brain, but now that he remembered, he dimly realized what had happened.

Some part of him, some small logical part of himself reminded him that they were never there in the first place. They died a long time ago. Hallucinations of your dead friends are still just hallucinations, and it was only a matter of time before they were gone.

His emotional side panicked. They couldn't be gone, no, it wasn't possible they had to be somewhere if he could just find them

He couldn't be alone again.

\---

His therapist said it was normal to see remnants of people you'd lost. It was part of the grieving process, denial. He was pretty sure she didn't mean literally seeing the ghosts of those people, but he supposed everyone had a different experience with grief. The important part was remembering that they really were no longer there, and that to dwell on the past was dangerous. Moving on is also an important step in the grieving process, though Tim was reluctant to believe he could do so.

Still, he knew it was only so long before they were gone. His new meds were almost too effective, and he was working a regular job now. He'd made new friends, though he refused to admit that to himself for fear of his ghosts leaving even sooner. Per their requests, he'd been working hard to quit smoking (though that was mostly Jay and Brian; Alex did his best to act like he could care less, though Tim knew it still bothered him. Not like Alex's opinions had ever mattered much, but it was the thought that counted).

He'd broken his record the morning he'd woken up to an empty bedroom. A whole pack was gone before he could even realize he'd done it, but...it didn't feel right. The nicotine flooding his system made him feel worse, and his skin crawled with disgust and guilt for going back on his promise. A small, rebellious part of his mind reminded him that they were gone, and couldn't push him to quit anymore. He shoved the voice down deep into his subconscious.

Weeks had passed since then. He wasn't talking to nothing anymore. His therapist had told him she was proud of him for accepting their loss, and that had made him feel elated where he'd usually felt patronized. He'd called Jessica, they'd met up for coffee, and she had told him something similar. He knew she'd never had the curse of seeing them after their deaths, but she'd always believed him when he talked about them like they were still there.

He took her suggestion to heart: to visit their empty graves. No big event, no family (how could he tell any of their families? No one would believe him. He'd had to lie so much, about everything, and he was so tired. He just wanted to have something to remember them by). He and Jessica had been the only ones present when the placards were placed. This was the first time he'd been to see them since the small ceremony; he hadn't been able to push himself into visiting them. Their ghosts made it uncomfortable to be near their graves, a stark reminder that they weren't really there.

The bus was mostly empty, the cold January weather convincing most to stay home or drive to work in their warm cars. Upon getting out at the graveyard, the bus driver gave him an odd look, which he ignored. He was good at that, ignoring other people who had no business judging his life by what little they saw. They didn't know what he'd been through.

He found the three graves easily, and for a while just stood, staring down at the grey stones buried in the earth. Puffs of smoke lifted from his lips as he breathed, making his fingers itch a little less for that cigarette. He'd always liked the aesthetic of smoke, and this was a lot less harmful, if a little chilly.

When he spoke, he had to clear his throat first, to get whatever was blocking it to go away.

"I'm... not entirely sure why I'm here. Closure? ...Maybe. What do people usually say at graves? I miss you? I'm sorry you died in such a horrible way that may or may not be my fault?" He kneeled down, sitting on one ankle with the other knee propping up his elbow. He ran a shaking hand through his hair. "Nah, that's stupid."

He looked down at the names engraved in stone. _Alexander Kralie. Brian Thomas. Jay Merrick._ It had been weird to realize he'd never known any of their middle names, but it didn't matter much. At least their names would be remembered by someone, even if it was just the groundskeeper.

"I suppose I do miss you, though. Even you, asshole," he added, glaring somewhat playfully at Alex's gravestone. His small smile fell, and he continued. "I guess some part of me understands now. That it wasn't you. You didn't hurt Brian, or me. You didn't kill Jay. It was that...Thing. It took your mind, just like mine. I don't...I don't forgive you, I don't know if I'll ever forgive you, but I'm not angry anymore. I doubt that matters much, especially to you, but I needed to let you know, even now that you're gone."

His eyes moved to the second stone, curling around the smooth lettering. His fingers brushed the cold surface, frost sticking to the tips, but he didn't mind. "Brian..." He choked on the name. He'd promised himself he wouldn't fall apart, he'd stay strong. "I'm sorry. You're death was unnecessary. It didn't have to end like that. I know you forgave me a thousand times over, told me it wasn't my fault, that you weren't you anymore but-" He took a slow breath to even out his racing heart. "I still feel guilty. That will never stop. No amount of therapy or medication or time will change that, I don't think. Just...know that I miss you, and I'm sorry. I wouldn't forget you even if I could."

Lastly, his eyes turned to the final stone, laying in the grass. So small and unassuming, just like the person it belonged to.

"Is...is it possible to fall in love with someone after they're dead?" he murmured, feeling his heart thundering in his chest and sure that even Jay could hear it from death. "I mean, it must be. I think I'm right, that that's what this is. I've- I've never admitted it out loud. It's kind of nice, though. To finally tell you. It's not like what people say it is, I don't freak out, I don't feel fluttering in my stomach when I think about you. I'm just...calm." He paused, carefully thinking through his next words. "I don't know if that's normal. Is it because you're dead? I don't know. I can't compare it to falling in love with someone who's alive, since I haven't done that.

"I don't know what it was. You were always so determined, but so small. And you'd glare at me for saying so," he added with a smile. "Probably remind me that you're taller. Which you are." His face fell again, to a calm, neutral expression. "I always wanted to protect you, even when you'd done the wrong thing. Even when you fucked up, I still wanted to be there for you. Even when you hurt me, I couldn't help it. And you were just as bad, don't get me wrong. Even when I hurt you, when the world seemed to be against you, you still pressed on, so determined for answers but so caring towards others in your own odd way. Caring about others more than yourself. Did you ever eat anything?" He stopped himself, muttering, "I'm rambling.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I miss you. And... I love you. And I'll see you again, but not soon. If it was soon, all three of you would kick my ass for giving up. I won't give up. I promise."

Tim stood, his promise powering his weary muscles. He stood a moment longer, staring at the three unassuming stones set into the ground, before turning and walking away.

As he left the graveyard, he could almost feel someone watching him leave, a whispered voice on the breeze telling him _I miss you, too._


End file.
